On the Digital Playing Field: How We ''Do Sport'' with Networked

Games and Culture 7(5) 349-374 ª The Author(s) 2012 On the Digital Reprints and permission: sagepub.com/journalsPermissions.nav DOI: 10.1177/1555412012454222 Playing Field: How http://gac.sagepub.com We ‘‘Do Sport’’ With Networked Computer Games

Emma Witkowski1

Abstract In the following article, the author explores the notion of playing computer games as sports by sketching out the labors and sensations of Counter-Strike teams playing at pro/am e-sports local area network (LAN) tournaments. How players are engaged physically in practice and play is described in this qualitative study through the core themes of movement, haptic engagement, and the balanced body. Furthermore, the research describes how technologies in play are laboring actors too; the players and technologies in this study are rendered as networked, extended, and acting in and on the same fields of play. In asking is there a ‘‘sport’’ in e-sports, this study questions the legitimacy of a traditional sports ontology and simultaneously tackles the notion of engagement with computer game play as a legitimate sporting endeavor.

Keywords e-sports, physicality, haptic engagement, movement, balance, Counter-Strike

1IT University of Copenhagen, Copenhagen, Denmark

Corresponding Author: Emma Witkowski, IT University of Copenhagen, Rued Langgaards Vej 7, Copenhagen, 2300, Denmark Email: [email protected] 350 Games and Culture 7(5)

Introduction ‘‘Fun and challenging,’’ ‘‘adrenalin,’’ ‘‘competition,’’ ‘‘adrenalin,’’ and ‘‘adrenalin’’; these first, short-winded, explanations on motivation were made by five teammates talking about why they play their sport. The sport they engage in is the multiplayer first person shooter (FPS) Counter-Strike: Source (CSS); a game that was part of a local area network (LAN) tournament called The eXperience. The tournament offered a purse of €10.000 in CSS, which enticed teams of players from across Europe to sign up and compete. These young men (all the players encountered at this tournament were men in their late teens to early twenties) play this computer game under the heading of e-sports. E-sports commonly refer to an organized and competitive approach to playing computer games. For the past decade, this style of gaming has been played across networked computers where structured online computer gaming leagues and locally networked events have offered players a place to engage in serious or career competition. But a question remains to be asked: How are computer game players engaged in ‘‘doing sport’’? In this study, an exploration of the ‘‘sportiness’’ of e-sports is undertaken with a focus on the player practices of multiplayer FPS computer games CSS (Valve Corpo- ration, 2004) and Counter-Strike 1.6 (CS 1.6; Valve Corporation, 2003) at LAN tournaments. This article takes up two areas of contention which regularly arise in the consideration of e-sports as sports. The first part explores how player physicality manifests in this particular competitive context. The second part discusses the relationship between human performances and technologies; looking specifically at how the association plays out in this e-sports discipline and in situations of play. These areas are discussed through the themes of human movement, balance and composure, haptic engagement, and the sensuousness of networked bodies and technologies. To date, e-sports has been given academic attention from the perspectives of the materiality of play (N. Taylor, 2009; T. L. Taylor, 2012), e-sports history (Lowood, 2010), expertise and expert play (Reeves, Brown, & Laurier, 2009; Wagner, 2006), as well as the assemblage of high performance play (Harper, 2010; Rambusch, Jakobsson, & Pargman, 2007; N. Taylor, 2009; T. L. Taylor, 2012). These studies all speak directly to or suggest the significance of the embodied player at the computer. What this article attempts to add to this growing area of study is a rigorous and phenomenologically attentive account of the bodies and technologies which are engaged in ‘‘doing e-sports.’’ The contributions of this article include a critical consideration of sporting ontologies as well as presenting fieldwork that describes how players realize and perform their networked sporting actions. The significance of this study is best seen in reference to traditional sports studies. In particular, by rigorously looking at how players ‘‘do’’ e-sports, this research might contribute to the discussion on what modern sport is or ‘‘could be’’ (formally, experientially, and culturally). In addition, networked team play offers concrete and challenging moments which can assist in the critical consideration of contemporary understandings of sports in terms of bodies and technologies in play. Witkowski 351

Approach Does not the title of ‘‘e-sports’’ present a splendid oxymoron? How can something be an ‘‘electronic sport’’? What might that be? Perhaps, it refers to happenings in professional tennis where several tournaments use Hawk-Eye technology, the ball tracking system that is called on as an electronic lines person. A reasonable guess might be a sports simulation—a digital playing field or perhaps a tournament in laser tag— where technologies not only extend the capabilities of the body but also act on the field of play (Giddings, 2006; T. L. Taylor, 2009). With the emphasis placed on the ‘‘e’’, the electronic, rather than the physics of the player performing in that space, a common sense impulse might be aroused to disqualify any claim for an electronic game to be classified as a sport. Traditional sporting understandings are often imagined through a moving player, a visibly active body (Edwards, 1973; Hargreaves, 2004). Limbs moving across a court or field are the culturally recognizable form of a body in ‘‘sporting motion’’ (Meier, 1988; Osterhoudt, 1973). As a potential sporting activity, e-sports is likely to strike a somewhat unrecognizable chord for those who have never navigated the field of play in an FPS, or combined a series of movements, perfectly timed and positioned, in a real-time strategy or fighting game (excellent examples of e-sports/high-performance play from other genres can be found in the following literature: Harper, 2010; Lowood, 2010; Schenkhuizen, 2010; Sirlin, 2005). In an attempt to describe the state of e-sports and gain a rich description of player practices and lived experiences of play, this study draws primarily from observations and semistructured interviews with Counter-Strike players and organizers of two major pro/am Scandinavian e-sports tournaments held in 2009—The eXperience (Denmark—CSS tournament) and DreamHack Winter 2009 (Sweden—CS 1.6 and CSS tournaments). Additional observations, interviews, and photo documentation were conducted at the 2010 World Cyber Games (WCG) CS 1.6 grand finals held in Los Angeles. This last mentioned field work was conducted as a saturation check, and to assemble further video and photo records of the core themes. At these LAN tournaments, each spanning 3 to 4 days, I observed and took field notes from early round play, upper/lower bracket play-offs, and the grand-finals. At The eXperience, 15 semistructured player interviews ranging from individual to group interviews were conducted on site. The interviews were taken from five different teams from four different countries representing professional, semiprofes- sional, and amateur rankings. The interviewed players and teams ranged from tournament and purse winners from the upper bracket (e.g., a fully funded franchise team) to teams that placed in the bottom bracket, taking home only the experience of play (such as a self-funded amateur team from Scandinavia). Furthermore, formal and informal interviews were conducted with the tournament organizers on site, as well as post-tournament. At DreamHack Winter 2009 (DHW), four additional player interviews were conducted from one amateur CS 1.6 team. The research undertaken at DHW was focused on observing players and teams ‘‘over-the- shoulder’’ and by following teams via various spectatorship options, including being 352 Games and Culture 7(5) seated at one of the on-site stages; via online websites (Twitter score updates/commentary and live broadcasts of events and replays); and through attendance at the DreamArena Extreme, an event hall where the CS 1.6 finals were played on stage and shoutcasted (e-sports commentary) live to 1,100 cheering spectators (with several thousand more watching the live stream online). The CS 1.6 teams and players were involved mostly at the level of ‘‘career’’ or ‘‘professional’’ play (where many players were remunerated in some form).1 Of the 32 teams playing in this tournament, there were 25 ‘‘professional’’ teams representing 13 different countries. The tournament was further populated by the following:

13 teams that qualified through national tournaments (the most distant national qualifiers coming from Malaysia). Three previous DreamHack tournament winners. Six amateur teams that qualified on-site. Three level-unspecified teams. Seven high-profile e-sports franchise teams who were offered a direct invitation to the tournament.

As this breakdown illustrates, using the term ‘‘professional’’ or even ‘‘career’’ is tricky in a field of play where there is such variation in the makeup of the field.2 Furthermore, the voiced experiences of a former CS 1.6 professional player, who sat on the E-Sports and Cyberathleticism (2010): European edition player’s panel talk (a workshop run by T. L. Taylor, Emma Witkowski, and Henry Lowood), is included in the study. As a playing researcher, I have played both CS 1.6 and CSS in LAN settings as well as online for several years. Playing has offered a visceral experience of the field of play that the players contend with; a sense of how timing and team- work sits in the body; an experience of focus, accuracy, and body control; as well as a feel for the technologies in play. Accounting for my positionality, it must be noted that I also lean on my experience as a former professional basketball player to consider the nuances of sports/e-sports bodies at play. Throughout the article, all inter- viewees are referred to by pseudonym. The main grounds for choosing Counter-Strike was its staying power on the e-sports ‘‘scene’’ (longevity being a ‘‘necessary condition’’ in traditional sports ontologies), as well as for the close connection between CSS and CS 1.6 in terms of gameplay and setup at LANs. By looking at the varied group of players and things involved in Counter-Strike as e-sports, it was expected that the study would be offered a broad perspective on how this specific activity is structured, played, and experienced. It must be stressed however, that this particular format of FPS game in play is only one of many e-sports disciplines. Many other games, game genres, e-sports setups, and certainly players participate in the discourse surrounding e-sports more broadly, carrying with them their own specific assemblage and physicality in their performances. On this note, areas for future research might look toward performances of different bodies and other sets of technologies in play, such Witkowski 353

Figure 1. The eXperience FPS LAN setup: Players on the field(s). (Photo from field work). as the real-time strategy or fighter scenes, domestic play, spectatorship as a part of play, and certainly the engagements of nonexpert competitive players (for work moving in these directions see Harper, 2010; Lowood, 2007; N. Taylor, 2009; T. L. Taylor, 2012).

Counter-Strike at e-sports Events In the format of e-sports, CS 1.6 and CSS are traditionally played at LANs in a five- against-five matchup (See Figure 1). The game positions teams as head-to-head opponents. A terrorist team (which starts on offense with the goal of planting a bomb at one of two bomb sites) faces off against a counter-terrorist team (which starts as the defense and tries to stop the opposition from successfully detonating the bomb). Opposing teams have the objective to remove the opposition from the field of play (called fragging). Communication between players is both verbal and non- verbal. Team communication can happen by way of in-game chat (though this is constrained by different tournament rules), standardized in-game communications (i. e., transmitting a general alert or command to the team), voice communication (Counter-Strike has a built in voice channel, though third-party software is often used in practice), or from talk and gesticulations within the room. Other standards of play include the following:

Standard technologies as supplied by tournament organizers. I.e. the same model PC linked to a server, and allotted the same size playing area to work within. 354 Games and Culture 7(5)

Personal peripherals. This includes a mouse, headset, keyboard, and a configura- tion file which maps the character movement to keyboard strokes.3 Points are allotted for wins. The goals include either detonating or defusing the bomb, eliminating the other team - or achieving both. In-game money is awarded on achieved goals. Money contributes to the team’s access to better items and is thus a key strategic aspect of the game.

Rules are found in at least three places. Within the game code, within the tournament rules (which were observed as shifting and flexible), and within the playing commu- nity (For a thorough exploration of rule sets and interpretations in e-sports, see Taylor, 2012). Each game I attended was fixed with a maximum time limit of 1 min 45 s and matches were fought out in a best of three (map) series. In general, the matches and game settings played out as follows:

There are a maximum of 30 rounds to a match. Competitors play terrorists for 15 rounds and then switch to play counter-terrorists for the remaining 15 rounds. The victory condition is the first team to reach 16 rounds. A match can last over an hour (e.g., tournament matches were allotted 1 hr and 15 min at DHW).4

Before diving into descriptions of player practices, a small section is allotted to clarifying definitions and considerations on ‘‘the necessary conditions for sports.’’

Necessary Conditions for Sport

[T]he era of cyborg sport becomes an exercise in deconstructing perceived naturalities regarding not just the athlete’s body, or the humanness of performance, but of the taken-for-granted definition of sport. (Butryn, 2002, p. 119)

In his philosophical work on bodies and technologies, Ted Butryn (2002) tackles some of the ‘‘perceived naturalities’’ surrounding traditional sports and sports per- sons. In a similar vein, I suggest that e-sports push against some of the common sense understandings surrounding sports. However, exploring what might be understood as ‘‘traditional definitions of sports’’ requires a layout of the concepts. In map- ping out various definitional efforts of sports, the commonalities and disconnections between traditional sports and e-sports might be perceived. Apart from looking at formal definitions of sports, the more descriptive efforts from sports phenomenology and sports sociology are also introduced, as they point not only to the softness of definitional boundaries but also to the sensory aspects of sports, which I suggest opens for a richer understanding of e-sports as sports, and traditional sports more generally. Witkowski 355

Figure 2. Sports definitions from 1979 to 2009 (Caillois, 2001; Coakley, 2008; Edwards, 1973; Eitzen & Sage, 2009; Giulianotti, 2005; Guttmann, 2004; Hargreaves, 2004; Meier, 1988; Suits, 1988; Sands, 1999). Word cloud image courtesy of http://www.wordle.net/.

In the above word cloud (See Figure 2), a visual over the key characteristics in definitional efforts of sports from sports sociologists and sports philosophers is compiled. While the method of randomly selecting and assembling definitions from Western sports studies scholars has obvious flaws (e.g., the absence of context from the chunked together collection, as well as the absence of fine distinctions in the meaning and significance of key terms, etc.), my goal here is to give the reader a quick hold of the work that this study has reflected on, and of where emphasis has traditionally been placed and contested in modern interpretations of sports. In the figure, four prominent characteristics in sports definitions are acknowledged.

Sports are physical. Sports have rules. Sports involve competition. Sports are officially governed.5

While all characteristics deserve a rigorous analysis from the perspective of e-sports, this article narrows its scope to the most prominent characteristic considered as a necessary part of a sport, namely that the activity is physical. I also pick up on the thread of the intimated classification of the ludic element of sports. In this sense, I take note of sports sociologist Richard Giulianotti’s (2005) description of the ludic element of sports as ‘‘germinating excitement.’’ This characteristic is attended to in light of the sensations of sport, as it was the familiar sporting sensations that were most often articulated by e-sports players as the strongest sense of their activity as a justifiable sport. Additionally, in his work on the significance of sports movement, Peter Arnold (1979) notes that the ‘‘nature’’ of sport needs to be thought of as more than the formal aspects. He emphasizes that sports are practiced, and in that practice we attach meanings and motivations that are important elements in recognizing and understanding sports (p. 146). In other words, to understand e-sports, the practices that are observed and lived/described in situ matter. It is from the tales from the field 356 Games and Culture 7(5) that physicality and the sensations of e-sports are discussed. These anchor points, harbored in traditional notions of sport, assist in thinking about this comparatively new (in terms of sports history) and somewhat unattended (academically) place of competitive, organized, and physically engaging play.

Discussion The Player at Practice—Physicality and Technologies in e-sports Physicality is the most defining characteristic instituted as a ‘‘necessary condition for sport’’ (Caillois, 2001; Coakley, 2008; Edwards, 1973; Eitzen & Sage, 2009; Giulianotti, 2005; Guttmann, 2004; Hargreaves, 2004; Meier, 1988; Sands, 1999; Suits, 1988). This kinesthetic quality is often at the hub of sport rhetoric, from international sporting bodies to philosophical and sociological descriptions, as char- acterizations of sport frequently point out that it is the physical capabilities and the exertion of the competitor/competitors that determine the final outcome of a sport— winning or losing (Council of Europe, 1992; Meier, 1988; Suits, 1988). Physicality has unquestionably been the Achilles heel of e-sports in terms of its sporting legitimacy. As the players and organizers of e-sports tournaments made clear in their interviews, articulating how a computer game engages the physical self is compli- cated. Players exhibited great difficulty in grasping just where the ‘‘sportiness’’ of their activity resided. Or perhaps, such reticence is just a reminder that these young men have never verbally expressed how they experience their sport as a sensuous engagement. The challenges of placing sporting physicality is not a new phenomenon, games such as chess have made the list of recognized Olympic sports while at the same time are framed as nonphysical events (i.e., ‘‘purely’’ intellectual contests) in sports studies literatures (Caillois, 2001; Guttmann, 1978, 2004; Meier, 1988; Osterhoudt, 1973). Sports involving machines or animals such as NASCAR (National Associa- tion for Stock Car Auto Racing) or equestrian have also proved to be sports of contention (Butryn, 2002; Giulianotti, 2005; Gumbrecht, 2006). It is the movement performance of the human body which is placed as central to physicality in sports. That is, does the moving body contribute or shape the outcome. Whether the emphasis is on the mindful strategy or the salient technologies involved in winning or losing (and generally facilitating in the actions of play), e-sports meets some of the same challenges as other ‘‘pushed to the fringe’’ sports (i.e., darts) in terms of articulating ‘‘sufficient physicality’’ in the playing body in order to be culturally recognizable as a legitimate sporting activity (Guttmann, 1978). In the following, the where, what, and how of e-sports player physicality is pur- sued. The targeted areas for discussion are those that provoke the most uncertainty toward the physicality of the players of Counter-Strike including human movement, the balanced body, and haptic engagement. This is followed by a discussion on technologies in play, focusing on the players and technologies as extended networks Witkowski 357 which create the played action and outcome, in addition to considerations on the sensuous experience of e-sports.

Player and Team Movement Movements made by high-performance Counter-Strike players are observed as skilled (practiced) and timely. A player must navigate through a digital 3D terrain from the limited vision of the monitor. Peripheral awareness of the digital playing field is not possible, which makes character head movement (moving the field of view from side-to-side) as well as knowing where to look for the opposition, necessary movement actions in the high-performance game (Reeves et al., 2009; Sudnow, 1983). Character movement (represented in the game) is risky. At the beginning of each round, there are five players looking to eliminate the opposing team from the current field of play. As a result, movements are carefully guarded, practiced, and strategized with the team, as well as fine-tuned in the players’ bodies. The game is set up on this negotiated movement by players and teams. If a player/team is poor at moving from A to B, or at quickly and precisely targeting the opposition in their sights, or even at maneuvering about the field space in coordination with teammates (which move in various formations depending on the side one is playing, the map, and the number of players left standing) the likelihood for ‘‘failure’’ increases with each inadequately executed action. This account of player movement can be considered alongside of Robert Osterhoudt’s (1973) rendition of chess as an encounter that does not involve ‘‘sporting movement’’ (in Osterhoudt’s terms chess is a ‘‘purely intellectual contest’’).6 Osterhoudt presents chess as played (in the standard ‘‘nontimed’’ manner) in the style of a contest, which does not necessitate a body performance in that the kinesthetic movement of any piece from A to B has no effect on the outcome of that movement (Osterhoudt in Drewe, 2003). Whereas the many movement decisions made in getting from bomb site A to bomb site B has everything to do with the outcome of each in-play moment (See Figure 3). To further this idea of movement being central to the outcome in sport, Klaus Meier (1988) suggests,

[there is] . . . one significant, distinguishing feature [differentiating sports from games], namely, sport requires the demonstration of physical skill and, as a consequence, the outcome is dependent, to a certain degree at least, upon the physical prowess exhibited by the participants. Therefore, whereas physical actions or particular motor movements are insignificant to the resolution of many games, the explicit and varied manifestation of these components is essential to the performance of sports ventures. (pp. 24–25)

Or perhaps movement can be conceptualized more simply in the words, ‘‘we know as we go, not before we go’’ (Ingold, 2000, p. 230). Social anthropologist Tim Ingold’s (2000) work on the perception of the environment helps to map out movement, he notes that ‘‘[a]s we travel from one place to another, we pass through a sequence of images, each of whichisspecificto—andinturnpermits 358 Games and Culture 7(5)

Figure 3. The sporting movement of Counter-Strike. (Photo from field work). us to identify—a particular location along the way’’ (emphasis added, p. 224). Fol- lowing Ingold’s description, I would argue that Counter-Strike involves players in a constant process of moving and meaning making. With each move a player makes, the opponents and indeed teammates are seeing ‘‘locations’’ and reacting to these changing landscapes (images, sounds, etc., which make up the momentary locations) in which every movement is crucial to the endgame state. In team games, the intercorporeality of players working together, and against opponents, adds further Witkowski 359 layers to the meaning making of the passing environment (Hockey & Allen-Collinson, 2007), as communication between teammates and the ever-changing game balance brings about movement performances that are exceptionally dynamic. As I watch over the shoulder of an American e-sports franchise team of CS 1.6 players (a bronze medal match at DHW with a purse worth €2600 and five sponsor PCs), I hear the team captain yell out a code word which signals his teammates to bear down on a specific map position. The flurry of movements seen on the monitors’ in front of me puts me off balance, something which is even more disorienting as several screen views do 180 degree turns, each from a differing point of view. They whirl their characters around with practiced hands and weave throughout the terrain of the train yard to meet up, in step, and snuff out the last opponent in a bout of precision targeting followed deftly by left mouse button clicks (Bang! Bang! Bang!). Wright, Boria, and Breidenbach (2002) point out that in Counter-Strike, ‘‘[p]laying is not simply mindless movement through a virtual landscape, but rather movement with a reflexive awareness of the game’s features . . .’’ (para. 4). Drawing on David Sudnow’s (1983) notion of terrain, Reeves et al. (2009) echo this point, discerning that expert play requires players to have a handle on the terrain ‘‘at-a-glance,’’ as ‘‘[a]n expert knows what the implications of each action [in the terrain] are and acts accordingly’’(p. 205–227). Going back to my earlier remark of the players’ whirling quickly around, both Reeves et al. (2009) and Wright et al.’s (2002) observations resonate, especially when considering the specific gameplay situation more closely. What jolted the team captain into action was the sound of a ticking bomb. Once charged, a bomb ticks down 35 s before it explodes. When the bomb is planted, the state of the game for the counter-terrorists is focused on pace and exactitude. The tempo is screwed up to resemble a foot race (to the bomb site) where timing and awareness of the other team (in this case, the final opposing player) and of one’s own team still playing on the map is crucial to the hurried decision making that inevitably plays a part in the result. In Counter-Strike,the ‘‘sporting movement’’—needing to see as we move—is achieved by engaging players physically through aspects such as maintaining a controlled body while quickly navigating the environment, by moving the character proficiently with reference to the team (through intercorporeal agility such as ‘‘knowing by body’’ the team tempo), as well as by means of the physicality executed in the muscles and tendons of hands and fingers and in the subtle control of breathing.7 What we see in such e-sports engagements is that movement is central to the outcome of every match.

The Balanced Body Movement in Counter-Strike is something that can be experienced visually. Even the novice to the scene can pick up on the necessity of coordinated movements and loca- tional meaning making required in order to participate. However, there are much more discreet bodily engagements involved in play. These discreet engagements are attributed to the balanced body. The balanced body can be understood as the body 360 Games and Culture 7(5) reconciling with the pressures of play. This manifests in two core areas. First, the physical body choices that are made in order to execute a desired on-screen action, and second, in the composure of the body as affected by the rhythms and intensity of gameplay and play contexts. The following field note offers an example of the balanced body and composure at play:

...Forty monitors palely illuminate the dark hall. The player seated in front of me holds his body tight as he lightly moves his mouse in tiny circles. This is followed by quick lifting and sweeping movements across his monitor-sized mouse pad; the navigation is attended to in tune with his left hand which is managing the configured keyboard so his character turns about seamlessly. He bobs in and out of hallways and turns swiftly into areas that are recognized as places the opposition may be trying to take. All is quiet. He climbs slowly and silently up a fire escape and peeks into the above floor. One, two, three times he looks, sighting a different area each time. On the third look he fires, only to be taken down by a patient and silent enemy who had been crouched and waiting for him. As the fragged player’s screen in front of me fades to black, I see his teammate seated next to him launch a noisy jump down a different fire escape in a rush to plant the bomb. He lands the jump perfectly oriented (making the 180 degree turn mid-air) and runs toward the bomb site scouting for enemies. He turns and back-pedals now in order to keep an eye on the rear entry points to the room. The bomb is planted. The two remaining counter-terrorists spring into offense at the sound, and within seconds the last remaining terrorist player crouched protectively alongside of the bomb is overcome.

FPS games are renowned for bringing on motion sickness to players unfamiliar in navigating the space. The fast paced contest collides with an experience of vertigo for many players, being brought on by the challenge of navigating the 3D environment quickly but steadily. Such disorientation occurs in moving the physical body— leaning the torso into the same movements as the on-screen character (Westecott, 2008). A common sight is watching new players bending into the screen and trying to peer around the digitally represented corners (Lahti, 2003; Swalwell, 2008), though even seasoned computer game players (who do not regularly play in the first person view) also experience motion sickness regardless that they ‘‘know’’ the digital environment. None of the players I observed fell into the screen or mimicked the movements of their characters. No expression of queasiness was evoked from their movements. These players’ physical body choices are established by not falling into any unfastened movements. With straight backs, shoulders inclined forward, their energy is focused into the modulations of their poised hands and fingers— which swing between delicate and purposeful—and are visibly recognized as practiced hands (Sudnow, 1983). Hockey and Allen-Collinson (2007) refer to the corporeal choices of sporting bodies with reference to the movement and timing of the body, such as the rhythm of the arm in motion, reminiscent of the field note account of the body in motion (the sweeping motions made while manipulating the Witkowski 361 mouse), but they also talk to effective bodily control, such as controlled breathing, as a integral part of sports for many players (p. 119–120). One specific position can be singled out for thinking about effective bodily control, it is the indispensable player that makes or breaks a line up, the sniper. As CSS player Holger explains, ‘‘the sniper has the ability to kind of divide the map in two, which basically gives the other four players a lot of room to just roam around and basically lock-down the bomb sites.’’ The sniper is the player that covers the positions on the map that are exposed. The exposed areas are obligatory passage points from bomb site A to bomb site B, making the skill of the sniper crucial. As I watch over the shoulders of a team lined up at a LAN, the sniper can barely be spotted on-screen. Obscured in debris and shadow, the sniper squats at the end of a long passageway, a part of the scenery. The player’s screen in front of me flicks between the weapon scope and normal view, he is poised, prepared, and waiting for a sign to act. A sniper’s job (when sniping) is not to navigate the map per se, but to make the map less navigable for the opposition. On the surface, this player in front of me looks nearly restful—slow breaths, fingers delicately placed atop of the keys, lightly sweeping the mouse to hover over the expected breach points.8 In a critique of James Newman’s (2002) ergodic continuum, Gordon Calleja (2007) emphasizes that the sniper, while inanimately monitoring the terrain, is ready to act in a way that cannot be considered ‘‘less ergodic’’ than, for example, a moment where player input is delivered to the system (i.e., during direct combat). Calleja’s point is a keen reminder here that exciting things are happening ‘‘behind the scenes,’’ such as the tacit participation and control ongoing in a player’s body, far away from the visible actions (Dye, Green, & Bavelier, 2009).9 The surface serenity of the sniping player in front of me is all the more mesmerizing in contrast to his teammates and opponents in frenzied voice and motion—yelling and blasting away. Then, in a flurry, the sniper’s position specialization visibly sets in. It is only a quick flash of shadow on the screen, but it has alerted the sniper to the coming action. An opponent turns into the crosshairs, exposing himself for less than a millisecond, and bang!. A screen fades to black. Enemy down. This occasion, the key play for the sniper, can last the click of a mouse. Something that sounds so simple (point and click) is achieved through detailed knowledge of the equipment on hand (what weapons the sniper bears and what the sniper sees the opposition carrying) as well as the situational terrain (such as the breach points and known strategies of the current location). But success is also, at all times, tied to focus and accuracy. Likewise, this moment of play draws in what sounds and observable things have taken place in the playing field (i.e., bullet holes on the wall, distant gunfire, or how many players are left in the game), as well as being anchored to the limits and fidelity of the technologies that are being used (e.g., the amount of hertz—which controls the cycles per second the monitor is refreshed, central to sharp shooting—a player can get from their monitor). T. L. Taylor (2012) describes the challenges e-sports players experienced at LANs when the older (but at the time superior) cathode ray tube (CRT) gaming monitors were replaced with the latest (often tournament sponsor) flat screen liquid 362 Games and Culture 7(5) crystal display (LCD) monitors, ultimately presenting the players with an inferior, slower, as well as unpracticed playing field. For the practiced sniper, these seemingly small things all play into the development of sensuous skills. The incom- ing events seen on screen at these LANs would drown the unpracticed player/team. The practiced players/teams perform in ways which are skilled (both specialized, but also highly competent across various situations) and accomplished by a ‘‘constant sensory monitoring of conditions’’ (Ingold in Hockey & Allen-Collinson, 2007, p. 126). And indeed, there is so much sensory monitoring going on that it is under- standable why players find it difficult to articulate how play manifests in the body (other than their likening it to sporting sensations), as the multiple sensorial layers are simply too complex, to intertwined, to peel away from one another layer for layer as something distinct. In this field of play, I suggest that high-performance player’s act on (the game) and maneuver with responses from a rich sensorial network in order to perform skillfully. This indicates that the physical involvement of these e-sports players is identifiable not just in quick hands or self-control. Physicality also extends through processes of skillfully managing and engaging with multiple bodily senses and actions (human and nonhuman), which are just some of the variants of physicality involved in an embodied gaming performance. As a final point on the sensory makeup of gameplay, the sound of the sniper rifle in game is read as a statement to the other players as it reveals some of each teams’ strategy. Diegetic sound in Counter-Strike is sensory information and it is a tool used actively by players to try and influence the opposition’s decision making.10 Signals through sound and sight draw the action, engage the players, and show them how to perform.11 This is practiced sensory monitoring at play and, as Hockey and Allen- Collinson (2007) note, these discreet engagements of the body are things that can easily be overlooked in terms of the skilled physical engagements that make up the sporting prowess that we witness on the playing field (p. 126). While sound alone is not the strongest argument for the sportiness of e-sports, I find it nonetheless a compelling one in terms of thinking about the multiplicity of body practices which includes, sound, touch, muscle control/composure, and movement, all of which are brought forth in an activity that is commonly stereotyped as not physically engaging ‘‘enough’’ to be understood as a sport.12 In considering e-sports, balance refers to more than what we view the body engaged in, it is also the balance of the concealed body at work. In terms of the performing players, the balanced body can also be talked about in terms of composure. Put yourself in the first field note entry which ended in a two against one sce- nario. As that player, you know that you are the underdog of the impending showdown. You know that your four other ‘‘sidelined’’ teammates are watching your moves. And you know that a perfect performance will get your team into the upper bracket and closer to the ‘‘big money.’’ Perhaps, the multiple pressures of this situation do not resonate as recognizable? Try then to imagine yourself in a more familiar underdog situation, perhaps a game of basketball where your team is behind by one point and you steal the ball with 3 s left to score in the game, the outcome Witkowski 363 relying on your training to manage the moment. Or perhaps you can recall the senses that were aroused during the final stages of a boss encounter in a massively multiplayer online game, where movements across the dungeon floor combined with timely spell casts made-or-broke your (and your group’s) imminent survival. That player in that moment is under extreme pressure comprising of adrenalin (what the players also noted at the beginning of the article as what motivated them to play) and the psychological battle of how to tackle the ever moving performance. Hans Gumbrecht’s (2006) writing on the aesthetics of sport adds to this consideration, suggesting that ‘‘ . . . composure in the face of gestures of destruction is the highpoint of the [sports] production ...those who give in to mental anguish do not make it to the top of their sport’’ (pp. 164–166). The mental anguish that Gumbrecht refers to is a salient part of these players’ everyday experiences.13 Their composure ‘‘under fire’’ certainly resonates with Gumbrecht’s notion of a high-performance sports person’s presentation, as CSS player Joe comments,

...there is the psychological part in it as well, you get taken like three times in a row and someone is yelling how bad you are, you do get affected whether you like it or not . . . it builds adrenalin, but yeah it’s great fun.

In Michael Kane’s look at professional gamers (2008), an interviewed CS 1.6 player adds to the notion of the balanced body and bodily sensations felt when playing by linking his experience to hunting. He emphasizes that the still moments of play juxtaposed against seeing the target (in this case a deer) is where the adrenalin rush culminates, and that all the actions following that flooded bodily reaction (as he shakes and gets disorientated) are made in a decidedly controlled manner. As the player states, ‘‘[i]t’s the same thrill in a one-on-one situation in a big Counter-Strike match. First you try and ambush. Then it’s about staying calm under fire’’ (p. 32). Whether it is fun or agony, composing the body is a practice required for proficient navigation and participation in this high performance field of play (Taylor & Wit- kowski, 2010). These e-sports players’ capture the labors of bodies engaged in high-performance sports, where a composition of movement, balance (steadiness and composure), and practice is brought together. Though these players also demon- strate in their performances the sensory understanding they have with their materials of play in the feel of what is at hand—the haptic engagement of the sporting body.

Haptic Engagement To think of computer gaming as a sport, it is worthwhile thinking of the haptic engagement of the players. The terrain that players engage with, while it might be framed as a ‘‘virtual environment’’ has a feel or texture to it. When running with a rifle in the characters hands instead of a knife the game/character ‘‘feels slow.’’ The game itself can also feel and play fast or sluggishly, as a CSS professional notices when he recalls playing CS 1.6, saying, ‘‘I enjoy Counter-Strike: Source 364 Games and Culture 7(5)

Figure 4. A player carrying his personal keyboard, a key technological actor in embodied play. (Photo from field work). more, I think it’s a faster game’’—William, professional CSS player (and former high-performance CS 1.6 player). When a LAN connection and machine experience lag (slower responses to input), players talk about the ‘‘speed’’ of the field (much like the speed of a cricket pitch, where bowlers evaluate the dirt and talk about how the ball will most likely bounce off of the playing surface of the day). The equipment in use, the network connection, and the fields of play (in the room and mediated Witkowski 365 digitally) are sensuous elements that play into the action of and between the game, the network, and the competitors (Giddings, 2006; N. Taylor, 2009; T. L. Taylor, 2009). A noteworthy sporting example, mapped out by Hockey and Allen- Collinson (2007, p. 123), is that of the football player. Players not only evaluate the field of play visually but also through touching the grass, pushing their fingers and studs into the ground, feeling the wind, and handling the ball. This act of haptic practice was demonstrated by football players at the 2010 FIFA World Cup. The official match ball (the Adidas Jabulani) caused players to alter their practiced game based on the unpredictability of this technology in the field of play. Former professional football player (as well as football shoe and ball designer) Craig Johnston (2010) commented on the sensuousness of this particular technology in play, noting that,

[i]t [the Jabulani] has an artificial feel and trajectory and only about 20 per cent of the craft [how the player manipulates the ball in the milliseconds the foot is in touch with it] a player is putting on the ball is being translated. (para. 15)

Just as for Counter-Strike players, the technologies are practiced by body and need to be felt to be played expertly. The importance of the touched material used in play becomes obvious when the backpacks of the participants are seen as they walk into the halls (See Figure 4): when not at play, players carry around their own personal keyboard and mouse (see more on the materiality of play in Taylor, 2012). Consider when you put your hand on the mouse to execute a computer related task, you might not recognize the feel of the mouse pad in use—does the mouse glide over it or stick? You might not even know what the mouse wheel is used for or know the pace of manipulating it. What are the necessary dimensions of the mouse pad in order to perform the desired on-screen actions? While these questions might sound a little trifling, the answers can have an enormous influence on a player’s performance, much like the effect of setting a large box in the passenger seat of a rally car whose driver is inhibited from shifting into top gear. Players extending their field of performance with technologies have an intimate feel for the things that are situated in their hands when at play (Dovey & Kennedy, 2006). At LAN tournaments, the space of the table that each player is allotted can vary. At The eXperience, the table space could bear a player’s keyboard, mouse and mouse pad, and very little else (by comparison, at the DHW finals the table space was a large conference desk where the players could sprawl out). The table space is a compelling part of the framework of play. On my first meeting with a former professional CS 1.6 player from Norway, my first comment was on the surprise I felt in regard to his stature—he was tall, around 190 cm. None of the players I had interviewed and observed until that point had that build. In discussing the challenges of fitting his body under the tables allotted at tournaments, he noted that it was not a big issue, as one ‘‘simply adjusts’’ and besides, he had started late (at 20 years of age) so he had always ‘‘played big.’’ This dismissal of the challenges of the physical space resonates with the comments made by long-time franchise sniper fRoD. He does not complain about the chairs or 366 Games and Culture 7(5) the tables used at LANs in terms of their role in executing skilled play, but rather fRoD focuses on the necessity to get the correct hertz (Kane, 2008), though the non- complaint is relevant. At the WCG, players could be seen chair stacking to create the best possible playing field. One player even brought along his undergraduate physics textbook to raise the monitor in order to gain a better body to screen position for executing play. The tables and chairs are noted in the challenges experienced at LANs, though they are just not at the top of the list of multiple technological and bodily challenges that go into disrupting a desirable playing situation. Based on the specific body that is brought to the table to play, there will be notable variations in how players accommodate the space that they engage with. Haptic engagement of the field of play thus extends beyond the ‘‘plugged in’’ materials. Tables and chairs, among many other mundane technologies, shape the player and thus the execution of play itself (N. Taylor, 2009).14 Seeing how these technologies come into effect was witnessed during a team setup for a match. One player was frantic. His mouse pad did not fit into the allotted space. It ridged over onto the next table causing a visible divot in the surface, which posed a certain problem for the fluidity of his desired movements. He was furthermore bound by the tournament rules and was not allowed to physically manipulate the setup space (doing so would invoke the team’s disqua- lification). It became apparent that the mouse pad was a significant tool for the player and that this minute situation would impinge on the other technologies in play (mouse and keystrokes). In other words, the feel of the technologies in play, vital to the execution of the game, would be drastically changed (perhaps even as unpracticed and uncontrollable as the Jabulani ball to the football players) on the circum- stance of a potholed mouse pad. With limited time left, the problem was resolved by a seat change with a teammate who used a smaller mouse pad to perform with. This type of situation resonates with the injured sports person, or playing on the ‘‘altered’’ playing field, such as the changed conditions of a football pitch after a downpour of rain (the landscape technologies in play—See Butryn, 2002).15 While these examples do not point out a malfunction in tools (depending on your definition), they do highlight the importance of haptic engagement as a key element in sports production in terms of the game outcome—winning and losing. Moreover, haptic engagement highlights the variation of gameplay practices that are a result of ‘‘more than the game’’ per se. Game outcomes are touched by all the networked bodies and technologies that make up the gaming moment, regardless of their complexity (such as networked systems) or simplicity (such as tables or chairs; N. Taylor, 2009; T. L. Taylor, 2009). Threading together the physicality practices of players starts to suggest the intense, yet subtle, bodily involvements and movements that are called forth during this particular setup and style of computer game involvement. The performances observed and expressed by the e-sports participants are, however, always already engaged in a collaborative setting between player and machine, or more aptly, multiple players and their many technologies. As a result, the theme of physicality has a second thread to follow, namely the sensuousness of sports technologies. Witkowski 367

The Sensuousness of Networked Sports The sensuous labor of bodies and technologies has been threaded throughout this article as significant to the game action and the outcome of the game. In this section, I would like to unpack one final area central to the discussion of e-sports as sports; the salience and sensuousness of the technologies in play. As the title ‘‘e-sports’’ emphasizes, the electronic is a highly identifiable part of the game. In an early and compelling article on e-sports, Michael Wagner (2006) marks out a place for this particular format of play, stating that e-sports ‘‘ . . . is an area of sport activities in which people develop and train mental or physical abil- ities in the use of information and communication technologies’’ (p. 3). Wagner’s work is a valuable first step into the critical consideration of e-sports, though on exploring his perspective, we can note that the influence of various nonhuman actors is absent. Furthermore, his argument is fastened to expertise in using information communications technologies (ICTs) (as opposed to a broader assemblage of technologies and things), placing the computer as the central or dominant technology. Reflecting on my own fieldwork and the research of T. L. Taylor (2009, 2012) and Nick Taylor (2009), I am inclined to loosen the overriding centrality of the computer in this endeavor. As ethnographic research shows us, e-sports are experienced as dynamic competitions where sporting actions (and game outcomes) are tacitly and overtly produced and documented by many human and nonhuman agents or things. Considering Gumbrecht’s (2006) exploration of the tools involved in sports, we might consider these multiple technologies in play as complexifications of the sport. But they are somehow more than complex additional ‘‘parts’’ that enable players to extend into in the desired action, in this case, networked gaming (Gumbrecht’s work, like Lahti’s, looks at the complexifications as prosthetics). In e-sports, the complexifications are, most importantly, also ‘‘at play’’. For example, through the sud- denly disconnected machine or in the pace of a LAN connection altering the feel of the field. As T. L. Taylor (2009) phrases it, in the team of 40 (human) computer game players, the technology becomes the ‘‘41st player.’’ Considerations of nonhuman actors lean directly upon Actor–network theory, which at its most basic proposes that humans are never acting alone: the collective experiences are the outcome produced by an assemblage of human and nonhuman actions (Latour, 2005). The final theme here considers how the labor of nonhumans can be considered alongside of the notion that sports necessitate ‘‘human’’ performances. Ted Butryn (2002) points out that ‘‘all elite athletes are, to varying degrees, pro- foundly technologized’’ (p. 116). From psychological training to improvements in equipment, high-performance athletes are always engaging in their sport with technologies and, more significantly, with technologies that have shaped their bodies to perform (Rigauer, 1981). This is described by Lahti (2003) as a ‘‘prosthetic mem- ory,’’ where timing and movements with the prostheses in play are internalized in order to succeed in the game. Gumbrecht (2006) takes up the analogy of shooting, which is useful in thinking about the game technologies as both sensuous prosthetics 368 Games and Culture 7(5) in play and acting on play. The sport of shooting, he explains, offers a tool to extend an action we are already capable of, in this case the function of hitting a target (p. 177). However, I would add that the rifle itself also acts. Its weight encumbers the tired marksperson or, on a rare occasion, the bolt on a biathlete’s rifle may jam: such nonhuman actions play into sporting outcomes. Gumbrecht points to the sensuous engagement that athletes have with technologies (such as the rifle), and additionally to the embodied understanding of how such a tool works in conjunction with the game, that is, when the biathlete needs to first compose her breathing before manipulating the heavy tool that extends her desired action. In e-sports, the player adjusts their mouse pad, headset, hertz, mouse sensitivity, and recalls how to manipulate the terrain with the equipment at hand, executing correct timing and movements as well as checking their connection before entering yet another round (Reeves et al. 2009; Sudnow, 1983). Though, I also watch countless moments of players fussing and preparing a myriad of other tools, devices, and people prior to play (air blowers, batteries, mouse cord holders, keyboard frames, parents, and partners). This moment of acting with the technologies and of remembering the complexifications in situ is a sensuous one. Using Laurence de Garis’ (1999) terminol- ogy of the sensuousness of sport, sporting movements are best understood through the touch of multiple actors. While de Garis talks of the intercorporeality between professional wrestlers knowing how to move in the ring (as well as knowing the ring) through subtle clues in touched bodies, I use his notion to think about the sensuousness of play as performed by players and technologies. Ask any career basketball player and they will tell you how sports tape should feel when wrapped on a sprain for the best maneuverability. They might talk of the carry of the ball on particular court and describe the situational adjustments necessary. Similarly, e-sports LAN players talk of being prepared for the idiosyncrasies of specific event halls, knowing whether to bring a hair dryer along for a hand warmer, or to carry with them a variety of mouse pads (shape and material) to adjust to the table setup. They could tell you about their experiences of sponsored equipment; talk to how standardized tools do not necessarily fit the needs of each and every body; acquaint you with the best make-do’s and tweaks for optimal performance. While Gumbrecht points to the singular tool in play—the rifle—extending a body’s actions, I would highlight the multiple and wide-ranging tools at play (and in pre-play/practice). The things in and of play require sensuous engagement for actions to be shaped ‘‘just so,’’ which is apparent in the many adjustments taken in order to carry out high-performance sporting acts (Lowood, 2009; Taylor, 2006). The complexifications of bodies and technologies laboring together are central to performances and outcomes in e-sports. In this site of e-sports, human performance is not undermined (in terms of there being no ‘‘recognizable’’ human performance) by the technological actions (those nonhuman acts of the 41st player), as human unpredictability is always already in effect, at all times playing into the players actions (Miah in Butryn, 2002).16 Butryn continues this line of thought noting that, Witkowski 369

[w]hile any number of athletes may employ the same technological innovation, they would undoubtedly differ in heart rate, anxiety management, and motivation, for example, as well as their individual responses to given technology. (p. 120)

The take home point here is that the technologies used for play in Counter-Strike shape the body personally through practice. Even though the mouse or the network, for example, is not a ‘‘cyborgian’’ part of our being (in Butryn’s terms, this would be a self-technology that is implemented or alters the body permanently) they do have a lasting effect on the body.

Conclusion Playing Counter-Strike in the context of the LAN is a rich sensory experience that calls for layer upon layer of physically demanding action in order to be competitive in the high-performance game. These players are prime examples of seeing while moving, as they maneuver their characters across the terrain and act and react to the space as well as the other players and technologies acting within it. The balanced body is a central yet discreet staging of physicality that is required in high-performance play. Composure, breathing, and the steadiness demanded from a player’s body contribute to the sensations experienced which direct the actions, as well as the outcome, of every game session. The haptic engagement between players and technologies starts to map out the network of things involved, their tacit and/or micro movements, and sensorial moments that engage the players physically and the technologies responsively. The player performances in this study point to the sensuousness of networked play: this network between a player and a machine, between multiple players and multiple technologies, is where e-sports offers a site to consider the intricacy of the interleaved state of human and nonhuman sporting performances where the endgame state is ultimately shaped by multiple actors (Gid- dings, 2006; Rigauer, 1981; T. L. Taylor, 2009). Furthermore, playing in these technologically complexified contexts brings up the notion of a ‘‘redescription of the body’’ as suggested in traditional sports by the use of performance enhancing drugs, hyperbaric oxygen chambers, or technologically advanced swimsuits (Beamish & Ritchie, 2006). Such a redescription provides ‘‘new possibilities for others never before dreamed of’’ (Roberts in Butryn, 2002, p. 123). While I am not suggesting the multiple technologies involved in a high-performance LAN tournament equates to the extreme of sports doping or ethically provoking mixed altitude training regimes, I do consider that there is something recognizable in the redescription of bodies as being pushed and pulled by and with technologies—noticeable in these high performance e-sports players—as well as there being something familiar in the idea of the new sporting possibilities ‘‘never before dreamed of.’’ Moving beyond Counter-Strike, e-sports more broadly highlight the variety of physical performances that are carried out with and alongside of technological ones in intimate ways. Though, by feeling our way forward specifically with Counter-Strike, we are offered 370 Games and Culture 7(5) a salient example of the shortfalls and challenges of traditional sporting definitions as well as notions of human physicality, human bodies, and (artificial) boundaries placed between technologies and human performances in play.

Declaration of Conflicting Interests The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Funding The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Notes 1. The level of reward varied greatly across the players and teams I had contact with: from sponsors covering accommodation and travel expenses to players harnessing a wage and privileges contract from a franchise (ranging from petty cash to lucrative long-term contracts). Several teams were self-funded (these were notably local or Scandinavian teams at DHW and The eXperience), and many players would only see cash-in-hand if a tournament purse was won. Though this brackets the larger ‘‘money game’’ that has in particular surrounded Counter-Strike CS 1.6 and CSS (For more detail see Ashley, n.d.; Kane, 2008; Taylor, 2012). 2. The title of professional does not necessarily mean a salaried player, but often a player who is able to gain financially from (not necessarily live off of) their winnings from tournaments. Career is also a tricky word (Chambliss, 1989), but perhaps gets closer to what some of these e-sports players are engaged in; that is, a long-term practice of serious play with varying levels of engagement, affiliation, and success during that time. 3. Though having the same technology at hand does not equate to an ‘‘even’’ playing field ipso facto—the breakdown of technologies affecting individual players in the competitive LAN setting is well documented (See T. L. Taylor, 2009, 2012). 4. In the tournament setting, with the accoutrements of the spectacle (getting the audience seated, preparing shoutcasters, and sorting out technical difficulties, etc.), big tournament matches—such as the DHW finals—can last as long as 2 hr. 5. The ‘‘necessary condition for sport’’ of being ‘‘officially governed’’ is, however, one of the most contested in sports definitions. As argued by Meier (1988) and Eitzen and Sage (2009), sports can be informal, organized, or corporate. 6. The notion of the ‘‘sporting movement’’ follows the argument that it is the timing and execution of the movements made that provides an anchor to think about subtle differ- ences between a sport and ‘‘something else’’—be that a game or an intellectual contest. 7. Competitive StarCraft (Blizzard Entertainment, 1998) players reported APMs (actions per minute) are another kind of staging of physicality and movement. With competitive players clocking around 300 APM, StarCraft players situational awareness and positioning choices are tied to such efficiency in micro movements (Kuchera, 2010). Witkowski 371

8. In this instance, I am compelled to think of elite marksmen who are documented as being keenly active in their psychomotor regulation during the moment of shooting their tool, such as monitoring their heart rate in order to take aim and shoot between beats (Konttinen, Lyytinen, & Viitasalo, 1998). 9. For more work on the tacit body in action, see Daphne Bavelier’s compelling research on visual processing in action video games. In her work, it is argued that the speed and accuracy that practiced (specific) FPS players deliver in game is achieved through training in enhanced visuospatial attention (Dye, Green, & Bavelier, 2009; Green & Bavelier, 2007). Though these works focus specifically on visual perception, thus bracketing the work of the rest of the body in play, they nevertheless offer compelling arguments for the active physical work of a specific player modality. 10. The diegetic sounds are not always transmitted into the room of the LAN. This under- scores the importance of having played oneself so as to know what the soundscape is sig- naling to the players, ultimately offering these observations an extra layer of sensory (though unheard) data. 11. As a side point, sound is a compelling characteristic that assists in emphasizing rhythm and movement in traditional sports. Most notably, this can be witnessed in judged sports such as in the sounds of landing multiple tumbling elements in a gymnastics floor routine, which are indeed everyday sensory aspects of performing and improving in the sport. 12. See for example Micklewright’s (2010) study of high-performance video game players, which hones in on physical fitness (rather than physical skill/sensory awareness) as the legitimizing category of a ‘‘sporting’’ endeavor. 13. Several of the players, however, often referred to the ‘‘fun’’ of needing to maintain composure, as opposed to the ‘‘mental anguish’’ referred to by Gumbrecht. Such an embrace of the pressures of play resonates with many professional athletes, notably those of excep- tional calibre (Bird, Johnson, & MacMullan, 2009; Russell & Branch, 1979). 14. See Nick Taylor’s fascinating work on Xbox 360 LAN play, where he maps out the intimate spatiality of the competitive play space as being shaped by the standardized length of cables (2009). 15. The 2008 Champion’s League final is a well-documented example of such a haptic hic- cup in traditional sports. During the penalty shoot out, Chelsea captain John Terry missed what was a decisive penalty; the miss being generally recognized as the ‘‘fault’’ of the wet turf he slipped on. 16. This article has, due to scope, bracketed the discussion of cheating in e-sports.

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Bio Emma Witkowski is a second-year PhD candidate with the Center for Computer Games Research at the IT University of Copenhagen. Her work takes a qualitative look at team play in networked computer games. Her former practice as an elite athlete has provided a strong foundation for consideration of the familiar and unfamiliar involving networked team play and traditional team sports. Her embodied knowledge has been translated into her research, which explores the practices of players, teams, and technologies in play, and is considered along side of sociological and phenomenological explorations of traditional team sports in addition to research on networked team games. She has written on topics such as gaming mas- culinities, the heterogeneity of play, high-performance play and embodiment.